


Return to Federation

by JackieSBlake7



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-11
Updated: 2016-07-11
Packaged: 2018-07-23 00:16:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7459141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JackieSBlake7/pseuds/JackieSBlake7
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vila and Blake meet up many years later</p>
            </blockquote>





	Return to Federation

‘Servalan destroyed the Federation,’ I said once the ship was safely on its journey – though the destination might now change. At last I could expound my theory to someone who would understand enough of the subject for me to continue without interruptions on what might now be considered long past history. Besides, this would delay having the usual boring “what have you been doing for the last ten years” discussions. One reason why I rarely go to “rebel reunions”: but what do most of us have in common, apart from having been rebels? Times had changed – and I had moved on. Unlike some of those who attended such events.  
‘It was some fifteen years ago that the rebellion succeeded, Vila, but *she* was Federation and *we* brought down the system,’ Blake replied. Servalan – who, as Sleer, still notionally a Commissioner – had died in a skirmish, in an attempted coup shortly after the rebel takeover, which had come to nothing without her. For a moment I missed her – or, rather, as Avon had once said when asked about his attitude towards her, the challenge that she represented. That I could understand.  
‘Hear me out Blake.’ I said with a smile, and poured drinks: these were the first I had had in a long while. My drinking had always been more for show, or to serve as a distraction than a “problem” – except, perhaps, during the darkest periods. ‘And I’ll listen to some of your ideas in turn.’  
‘OK – I’ll listen.’ Blake was more cheerful, relaxed, than he had been when we had met again, by chance, a few hours ago on the otherwise unmemorable planet we had just left. But – what is there to look forward to when your rebellion has succeeded, and you have half a lifetime and more to fill? It had taken me, an accidental participant on the sidelines, some time to get used to a quiet life with nobody after me – unless I annoyed them sufficiently, or had something they particularly wished to acquire and to reward me for. As far as I could arrange it, more of the latter than the former.  
‘Of course it was the rebels who destroyed the Federation-as-was,’ I said, ‘but… when we took over there were a fair number of administrators from the old days left in office.’  
‘Because there was nobody yet to put in their place,’ Blake pointed out.  
‘And most of them did their jobs reasonably well, before and after,’ I added. ‘We met some of them during the rebel times: they preferred their work – and their pay packets – to politics.’ We needed their services, and had interfered with their internal politicking less than our predecessors, so were more acceptable. ‘Those who wanted to bring back what #they# saw as the good old days were always going to be the problem.’ We had been told by the administrators of a historical bent that this was a persisting problem, regardless of the precise nature of the new group coming to power. Some of the arguments during the transition periods had been interesting, even to someone as apolitical as myself. ‘Well Servalan’s activities focused attention on everybody from the old days still with access to power and what they were up to – and thus any long term plans any of them had had for bringing back what had been had to be abandoned.’ And so the networks of contacts which had helped keep the Federation in existence were disrupted more than they had been, while their replacements were still weak – though there were other factors as well, as always with such things.  
‘Yes.’ Blake considered the idea. ‘You may be right – as far as you go.’  
‘I want my share of any profits you make on the book on the subject.’  
Blake laughed, and I remembered him from when we were first on the Liberator.   
‘When it gets that far.’ He had said long ago that his intention was to leave enough paperwork for someone else to write the standard biography – or, according to Avon’s reply, at least six, all completely different. Come the success of the rebellion this had quickly proved a significant underestimate, and most had reasonably promptly disappeared without trace – as with those for the rest of us. I had the vague hope that in years to come “someone” would come across one such volume and start the more enjoyable parts of the process again. I might even be turned into the hero I half-wanted to be.  
I had achieved part of what I intended – the plan had come to me within a few seconds of our meeting. Now to persuade Blake to get involved in what I had the impression quite a few people wished to happen. Sometimes you don’t notice the good points of the system you are used to are until you suddenly realise they are going or gone – and you can’t remember when or how it happened – or work out how to get them back. The way things were going we could find ourselves in that position – and sooner than we expected.  
‘Shall we operate together for a while?’ I asked as a partial diversion.  
‘You think your general trading and my negotiator-for-hire can go together?’ He obviously wanted an excuse for us to be following the same path again, for a while at least – a good sign.  
‘The trading is a cover of sorts, a secondary line of work,’ I explained. When I’d been a kid I had wanted to be a Free Trader – one of the reasons I had developed my lock opening skills, once I had discovered a knack for it. I’d thought – reasonably as it turned out – that they’d find such abilities useful. It was the “everybody else” who was interested in such things that had led to my being sent to Cygnus Alpha, if the Liberator hadn’t got in the way. ‘My skills are in demand,’ along with those of the teams I set up, ‘and I am very useful for delivering messages and diplomatic goods.’  
‘What?’ Blake was slightly surprised.  
‘Thanks to our rebel days I made a number of acquaintances, some of whom were able to recommend me to the governments they became involved in, and so my fame has spread.’ And, with the success of the rebellion that included seeming hordes of kids named after me. “Vila” had occurred mainly among the lower grades before – afterwards, especially with the publication of my successful (because entertaining rather than strictly factual) autobiography (my own work, apart from the bits done by the ghost-writer) it had become common among the upper classes as well. One of the reasons why I hadn’t responded to Blake’s hailing of me on the already forgotten planet – I was *used* to half a dozen ‘Vila!’s, mostly children, replying to the name: I was not the only rebel to experience the phenomenon. ‘Well – if we hadn’t met face to face on the planet we just left, would you have noticed my ship?’  
‘Possibly – I did arrange for you to have it.’ It had been the particular reward I had requested after the rebellion had succeeded. My Federation era sentence had been quashed anyway – providing, the rider had been, I had kept reasonably above board. Which I had done: if I had been given the present opportunities in the old days, I would have kept as reasonably honest as I had these past few years… probably. ‘But it is fairly unremarkable.’  
‘Now I understand. So we could work together then,’ he said thoughtfully. He had convinced himself, for the immediate future at least.  
‘We will reconsider the matter in due course,’ I said. Old habits died hard: the knowledge of a get-out clause from the beginning always simplified things. I did a quick calculation. ‘You know – it is twenty years almost to the day since we met in the holding cell on Earth.’ And I still felt the same age as I did then, even if I was sometimes reminded I wasn’t.  
‘Yes… What a different galaxy it was then,’ Blake said, as nostalgic as I was. ‘Perhaps we could revisit some of the places we knew from that time.’  
‘Master we are now leaving the system and on route to your next destination,’ Slave said. The Scorpio’s computer had been installed on my ship by Avon at my request: he had enjoyed the challenge, and it was a way of acknowledging our friendship, and apologising for some of the less pleasant things that had happened during the years of our acquaintance.  
‘Good. As usual, carry on until told otherwise, or you encounter a problem which needs my input.’  
‘Yes Master.’ The computer had always been more efficient than it had presented itself as being, and Avon had made Slave less overtly subservient. I wanted a computer who could provide some companionship when I was otherwise alone. ‘Am I to add your friend to those authorised to issue instructions Master?’  
Blake laughed and I joined him. I saw again the rebel I had once known.  
‘Talk about role reversal Vila!’  
‘My little domain Blake.’ Which was about the measure of it.  
Blake shrugged. ‘Let’s see if we can make this agreement work. Perhaps I need some constant companions for a while.’ So did I.  
‘I’m willing. Twenty years since we first met, ten years since we last managed to meet – time for a change again.’  
Blake laughed again. ‘One thing Vila – did you know about Avon’s “abrupt departure” beforehand?’  
‘Know about it – I arranged it!’ He had been bored and frustrated with the processes of government, and had started investigating the Federation banking system again, and the government’s finances. And anything else he could get access to – though still at the theoretical exercises stage by the time he left, moving on to the “arranging the practicalities of what could be done.” ‘With some help from Deva.’ Equally bored, and also making use of the more creative areas of his computer rearranging abilities. I had come across evidence of them planning “a minor scam with prospects”, and decided to *do something* before they *did something* that would cause a fuss, and cause Blake to *do something* everybody would regret. ‘Wasn’t difficult: two computer experts being suddenly sent to investigate *all* the Federation’s computer research bases, including those forgotten about, for anything useful with no possibility of immediate return.’ They had been given just enough time to remove evidence of what they had been doing before anyone could start investigating what they had been up to after I had duly warned them. They had taken Orac with them – probably the best people to look after it – done part of what they were supposed to, and disappeared from general view, amid much speculation. Others had taken on the project I had proposed for their own purposes, and the system had been reformed “apart from the most boring bits.”  
I had eventually received a message from Avon that thanked me for the interesting work I had given him, in a manner which was only slightly sarcastic. He implied he and Deva had realised I had done them a favour and indicating that they were now doing other things in the same line – possibly preventing others from doing what they had been intending.  
Blake had been understandably rather annoyed when presented with what Avon and Deva had been attempting to do – shortly after they had left. The information on the scam had been suppressed – no harm had actually been done, and a search for, and trial of some of the heroes of the rebellion would have been more hassle than it was worth. Especially as they were then doing something vaguely useful.  
The others we had linked up with in the old days had also gone their various ways. Tarrant had enjoyed “his” autobiography – which, like mine, was more fun to read than accurate (or so it was said out of his hearing) and turned him into the pilot-hero he thought he was. I could understand *that* desire.  
‘Have they developed the next generation of computers yet?’  
‘They have done some *interesting* research, as far as I can understand.’ From which I had benefited. ‘And their museum of computing history is mentioned in most of the guidebooks of the region. Not least because there is *very* little else there.’ I had found acquiring items for the collection a useful ploy for my own activities at times. ‘No doubt,’ I added, ‘they would be further along if they weren’t enjoying themselves so much playing around with the stuff – and going exploring.’ Both of which I could understand. ‘I’ll be going there shortly,’ I added. I had enough of “their sort of stuff” acquired in my recent travels cluttering up my storage space on the base I used. Like the rest of the Scorpio crew and Blake’s Gauda Prime group I had made my claim for such a place early enough to be pleased with the result.  
‘Yes, Vila,’ Blake said after a few moments, ‘I’ll come with you on that journey.’ He and Avon had come to a working arrangement about what had happened on Gauda Prime, and what Avon would contribute to the rebellion and the new regime, which had been done. Avon always was a man of his word – apart from when his interest was aroused by something new, and even then he would manage to find a way to link both claims on his activities. ‘He was my friend – and I needed friends like him then.’ A moment’s pause. ‘Still do.’  
‘I think he understood,’ I replied. ‘Perhaps now you can work together again on a more even tempered basis.’ And “somehow” there would be a reunion of all those who had been on the Liberator or Scorpio, and Gauda Prime, before Blake and I parted company – if we did.  
‘Doing what? You trade and carry messaged, Avon and Deva develop computers and see what they can find – I negotiate, or go through the pretence of negotiation.’ His emotional pain was evident. ‘Do you have any idea what it’s like – knowing you’ve been called in just so they can say they’ve made the attempt to negotiate, and they’ve no intention of doing anything?’  
‘I do actually.’ I had had my runs of collapsed deals, and other people’s failed negotiations getting in the way of what I was doing. It had sometimes worked in my favour as well. I knew Blake wanted to let off steam. ‘You’ve had some successes,’ I pointed out.  
‘Yes – not enough. I think the Federation’s going to break up. And they won’t realise what they’re losing until it’s too late.’  
He had come to the same conclusion as I had, and some others, independently – and he might have the ability to do what some of the rest of us, individually, could not. I *had* been half-searching for “someone” who could, perhaps, stop things going wrong.  
‘Don’t you think the invisible borders don’t affect me? A credit from here doesn’t work there, even though everybody says it should. I could give you a list of complaints as long as my arm and some.’ And the “complaints” were a regular topic of discussion among those I traded with. It was *always* “somebody else’s” fault that the situation did not work as smoothly as it should.  
‘What do you suggest we do then?’  
‘You can be very good at persuading – when you put your mind to it,’ I said.  
‘So Avon used to say.’ This with a grin. ‘Though he was good at persuading when he wished.’  
‘Some of the rebels we used to know want some of the excitement they used to have…’  
‘Yes, well? You suggest we go on a reunion tour?’  
‘No – unless you want to. All I’m saying is that you could get a team together if you wanted. You united the opposition to the Federation as it was…’  
‘And now you want me to unite everybody in support of the Federation as it could be.’ Blake laughed, realising what I was leading up to. ‘A challenge.’ I could see he found the idea attractive.  
‘There’s some stuff everybody can agree upon – if they are asked to. Communications and trade. That these transit forms apply to those goods wherever you are. Everybody accepts a credit as a credit, whatever is printed on the back of the coin. What an apple looks like. That sort of stuff.’   
Blake laughed again. ‘Perhaps you have a point. It might even be fun.’  
‘You’ve got yourself a cause most people can agree upon – even Avon. And Orac.’ Paperwork was of not interest to the machine – unless it contained information it could not otherwise access.  
‘Yes. When shall we begin?’


End file.
